Chapter 45 Campfire & Cracked Ribs

• They made camp just past the burned-out remains of the village, a curve of forest sheltering them from the wind that picked up with the night. Smoke still clung to the air, mingling with ash and blood, but the worst of the danger was gone. At least for now.
• Mikko moved slowly, one hand pressed to his ribs. They ached like hell, bruised or cracked or maybe both, but he refused to let it show—not when Espen had nearly been torn apart in front of him. He watched her now as she tugged a blanket tighter around her shoulders, the flickering firelight casting soft gold over her cheekbones. A scrape still marred the corner of her lip, but she was alive. She was breathing.
• Gods, he’d nearly lost her.